The White Wolf's Son

by Michael Moorcock

  I had been right! I felt triumphant even as he tried to drag me away and Oona, Lord Renyard and the Kakatanawa converged on him. Uingasta, one of the Americans, got hold of Klosterheim, who had dropped me, but the man, abandoning his mask, slipped free and ran off into the crowd, pursued by everyone but Lord Renyard and me.

  The dancing people seemed entranced as they reformed their ranks and danced on, as the Kakatanawa and Oona straggled back, disappointed.

  “So I wasn’t barmy, see?” I declared.

  “You weren’t barmy, dear, that’s true.” Oona was out of breath. She kept her bow strung and an arrow nocked on it. “We’ve got to get you out of the city. He knows you’re here. He’s been waiting his chance. I’m sure he’s told von Minct, and one of them is sure to try this again. We can guard against him, of course. But what about those others? Klosterheim is bound to resort to supernatural aid at any moment, as soon as he can, and that will endanger the city and all of us—including what the city represents to those who oppose Granbretan.” She spoke in low, urgent tones. “We’ll leave as soon as we can. Come on. Let’s get back to the inn.”

  I couldn’t work out why she was reacting like this. Had she never believed Klosterheim was here? Had she been humoring me? Perhaps she thought Klosterheim had lost the power to travel through the realms. Perhaps his desperate attempt to kidnap me indicated that something else was going on, that our enemies were becoming more desperate and therefore more dangerous.

  Next morning we put our affairs in order and, with help from the palace, slipped out of The Nun and Turtle, through a private gate in the city, taking the München road. Oona and Prince Lobkowitz had tried to get the use of some ornithopters, but none were available. Though they were producing new machines all the time, those factories were having to be moved and, wherever possible, hidden. They were the main target for any squadron the Dark Empire sent over. There was some chance Granbretan would be trying again to destroy the factories, perhaps in the next night or two, so we accepted his need and made other arrangements. Prince Yaroslaf, respecting our danger, sent some of his best guards with us. He did everything he could to accommodate us.

  Oona and the Indians rode in carriages, because the Indians didn’t know much about horses. I sat inside with her part of the time, and the rest I had a pony I could ride, so long as I remained close to Prince Lobkowitz or Lieutenant Fromental. Lord Renyard, of course, also rode in the coaches.

  While seated in the carriage with Oona I told her what I’d been thinking about the desperation of our enemies. She leaned over from the seat across from me and rumpled my hair. “You’re a smart young lady. Our enemies grow increasingly less subtle. That means there’s a clock ticking somewhere for them. You’re right; they’re losing time and patience and becoming more dangerous.”

  “And yet you still have no idea what they want me for?”

  “I’m getting a bit of an idea, but nothing too clear yet.” My grandma’s ivory beauty continued to amaze me. She was like one of those stunning 1920s figurines fashioned in ivory and bronze. At night her skin had a faint, pale glow, and her red eyes carried an expression not entirely different from her father’s when he seemed troubled. In the light of early morning she was like a Greek statue come to life.

  “I wonder where he is.” I spoke without thinking. “Your father—Monsieur Zodiac?”

  “Elric? I fear he might be lost, or that people might even be deliberately misdirecting him. Somewhere in his own world where he was born, he’s suffering horribly. He’s the prisoner of a cruel enemy who would bring the unchecked reign of Chaos down upon them all. He has seen Chaos in all its aggressive variety, and he fights it, though he is also dependent upon it for his very life. Should he be killed in this, his dream, then he dies in his own world, too. Every action he or his enemies take in one realm, he takes in a million others, save that these selves, as substantial as you or me, are the creation of a particularly powerful form of dreaming. Every other world but his own is a dream to him. He hangs, dreaming even now, on the yardarm of a ship, desperate for that one thing which sustains him, which will free him.”

  “Which is?”

  “A sword,” said my grandmother with weary bitterness. “It has taken him a thousand years to earn that blade. And now, to save us, he risks everything, when salvation for him could be hours or days away.” And she fell into such a silence that I couldn’t bring myself to ask her another question.

  Later she began talking again. Elric, she said, was clearly her father, as I’d guessed, and not just an average multiversal adventurer! His destiny was somehow linked to the destiny of every world he had touched in his thousand-year search for his sword. There was some trouble with the carriage, and we had to get out while someone saw to it. We were still less than half a mile from the city, and the walls remained in sight. Prince Lobkowitz brought up a pony for me to ride.

  “What’s so special about my great-granddad’s sword?” I asked him.

  He looked at me in complete bafflement. “Elric’s sword? Aha! The Black Sword. There is an aspect of it in every world I know, yet the sword itself, capable of generating hundreds of versions of itself, is elusive. Without it, our work can never be completed. Elric’s destiny in this complex equation is to use the sword to bring a halt to a multiversal phenomenon which has grown out of control.”

  “Which is …?” My persistence made him smile. He guessed that this was all Oona would tell me.

  “She knows how important it is for Elric to reach the end of his thousand-year dream with that sword in his hand. That has been the whole point of his dream. Yet so strong are his feelings for those he regards as his descendants, that he is risking his own chance of salvation. A noble thing to do, but in the scheme of things, it is a very dangerous thing to do, putting many at risk. He does not, of course, know what he risks, save his own life and soul. Yet you are also important to him because you are his great-granddaughter, and Klosterheim and von Minct and those they represent would gain a great deal from diverting Elric and capturing you. I am beginning to guess that they deliberately led the albino on a wild-goose chase while going back to Mirenburg, perhaps knowing you would return. Yet,” he mused, “you also have something they desire. As has that boy.”

  “So von Minct was the cowled man at the table?”

  “We could presume so. But remember, there are many players in this game, and not all of them are fulfilling the roles they seem to have been assigned …” He laughed rather bitterly.

  The carriage fixed, we were off again. My pony was used to a different kind of handling, I think. Every country has slightly modified habits of riding, so the pony and I took a while to adapt to each other. Still it was a pleasure to be riding again, even if there was no chance of a gallop or even a canter. We had to stick close together, said Prince Lobkowitz, especially at the moment. If we needed to scatter, then we could enjoy a gallop!

  I think von Minct realized too late that we were leaving. Behind us I saw a single cowled figure which ran frantically in our wake before abandoning the chase. We had escaped the city just in time.

  For the first fifty miles or so Prince Yaroslaf’s guards accompanied us until we were well into the mountains and on our way to München. This whole country, they said, had been taken from the Granbretanners, who were still making attacks on Mirenburg’s factories from bases on Jarsee and elsewhere. Sometimes nonmilitary parties would be attacked or bombed just because the enemy ornithopters failed to reach their targets and preferred to lighten their machines before returning home. Also some defeated groups of Dark Empire soldiers and their supporters lived now as bandits, preying on anyone who looked weak enough to attack safely.

  I had asked Oona why we were taking these risks, but she had been too busy to answer. Now I had no opportunity. She assured me that we should be safe enough when we arrived in München in two or three days’ time. The ancient city had sustained some damage in the fierce fight to free her, but her old spirit of defiance lived
on.

  During one of the spells I spent in the carriage we rode by towns which were in ruins, some from the recent battles and some from earlier conquests of the Dark Empire, whose policy was to attack from the air, killing anything that moved before landing its troops. I had only ever looked at scenes like these on the TV. And then it had always been our side making most of the ruins, and I’d felt differently about it—often angry, sometimes guilty, but not like this. This was a feeling of furious frustration and a deep hatred of the cowardly people who did this, flying out of the clouds to bring destruction to whole families. You could still smell the smoke and ash. There was something stale and disgusting about the way it clogged up your nostrils and lay on your skin. Oona put a scarf up to her mouth as we passed through a valley where the country people were doing their best to rebuild their villages, putting up frames and walls, reslating their roofs. They waved to us as we went by, and appeared cheerful under the circumstances. They obviously assumed we were a war party, and cheered us on, urging us to give back to the Dark Empire the hell they had experienced themselves.

  Once or twice an ornithopter bearing the black and red roundels of those opposing the Dark Empire flew low to take a look at us, but we flew the same banner on a long spear carried by Shatadaka, another of the American warriors. The ornithopters would rise, their pilots waving to us, and go on about their business. We were careful, however, not to wave our flag until we saw the aircraft’s markings first.

  When a machine bearing no markings passed overhead, we felt sure it was an Empire ship. It flapped down to identify us, then soared up again, rotors roaring, and disappeared, heading for Mirenburg. I could tell Oona was alarmed by the way she tensed in the carriage and called for one of the spare horses. I think she felt more in control when mounted.

  We made camp that night in a wood near the road. Oona posted extra guards and would not let me move a foot from her. To be honest, I didn’t much feel like moving. I slept, as before, curled up beside Lord Renyard’s soft red chest.

  In the morning we hurriedly saddled our horses, hardly stopping for breakfast. The Kakatanawa had become better at handling the carriages and harnessed them in no time. Oona was suddenly in a great hurry to get to our destination. We ate lunch on the move in the carriage: bread and sausage with some water from a nearby stream. Emerging from a sweet-smelling pine forest, we rode beside a small lake rimmed by hills and distant mountains. Again there were flowers everywhere, though not the same as I’d seen earlier. I tried again to ask Oona about the albino boy. Did she know who he was?

  “I’d like to talk to him as much as you would,” she said rather noncommittally.

  “Do you think you might be related?”

  “It’s entirely possible.” She grinned. “Since you say we’re so alike. And it’s obvious I’m my father’s daughter. I do, after all, have a long-lost twin.” Then her mood changed rapidly, and she fell into that frowning silence again, staring out of the window at the faraway peaks. At the next break, I switched again from the carriage to the pony.

  The country, though bearing terrible scars, was absolutely beautiful. Occasionally I spotted a tower, and sometimes an entire castle, among the trees and rocks. One stood on the very edge of the lake, completely desolate. Like so much of the ruin Granbretan left behind her, it was a monument to the evil which had destroyed it.

  I wondered if there were people in Granbretan who hated what their own country was doing. You heard a lot about the evil ones but not much about the good ones.

  “That’s because there are so few good ones left,” Prince Lobkowitz told me. “That culture has bred to particular traits, and they don’t allow much sentiment about ‘Do unto others as you would have them do unto you’ ! Naturally there are those over there who hate what Granbretan is doing, who hate wearing masks and all the other aberrations they encourage. Would they dare as much as breathe criticism of the Empire and King Huon? I very much doubt it. Would they nurture a revolutionary movement? With spies to betray them at every turn?” He looked thoughtfully at the surrounding landscape. “It would require many brave and intelligent people to overturn the Empire from within. No, the best we can hope for is that it will collapse as quickly as it arose. The nature of empires, whether they be Roman, British, Russian or American, is that they are expensive and uneconomical to maintain, requiring a vast standing army and its equipment. It only makes sense if you are fond of lists, codes and filing cards. There are so many better ways of investing your time and money, most of which do not involve so much noise, violence, bombast and cruelty.”

  “And Elric—Monsieur Zodiac—does he come from that empire or another one?”

  Prince Lobkowitz smiled and stood up in his stirrups to stretch his legs and give his bottom a rest.

  “Your great-grandfather is from a very different kind of place, an ancient civilization which gradually compromised with Chaos to give it power over the whole world. But it had not always compromised, as Elric learned. Once it had been an enemy of Chaos, a respected trading nation, famous for its probity. But as trade spread elsewhere, Melniboné became increasingly inclined to maintain her relationships with sword and fire rather than honest coin. So she kept her empire, at the cost of many of the softer mortal qualities. For Melnibonéans, though mortal, were not human. They belonged to a race which had come to our world many thousands of years earlier and made compacts with the great elemental Kings of Fire, Water, Earth and Air, compacts with supernatural entities we have no means of describing. And they were supported by their dragons, the Phoorn, who spoke the same language as they did—flying monsters impossible to defeat, with venom that became fiery poison when exposed to the air. Dragon venom alone sank many a Young Kingdoms ship.”

  “Wow! Dragons? Really?”

  “All this sounds very exciting to you, young lady,” said Prince Lobkowitz, “but believe me, it’s no fun to be terrorized by a living creature the size of a sperm whale, which can fly and spit venom on you. It’s like being attacked by a really big, heavily armed military helicopter, only the thing has a vast tail, which can knock the mast off a good-sized ship and destroy a house in a single flick. How does it fly? How do those ornithopters fly? They fly, I think, by different logic to a jumbo jet, but we know they fly.”

  “I’d still like to see one of those dragons,” I said.

  “Pray you never get the chance!” Smiling, he reached over to clap my shoulder. He was smiling. But like most of the smiles I saw these days, there was something else under it. I guessed they had enough pieces of the jigsaw puzzle now to realize the kind of game being played by our enemies, and how much danger we were in.

  Again I’d been politely cut off before I could ask all my questions. I wanted to know what the Black Sword was, if it was something more than just a sword. A kind of magic blade, was it? Like Excalibur?

  Our road now wound along the shores of yet another lake. In the far distance at the very end of the flat stretch of water, surrounded by hills steep and high enough to be small mountains, was what looked like a good-sized town.

  “Oona told me he was looking for some sort of sword …”

  “He already had the Black Sword. I imagine he left it behind in Ingleton for a reason. Perhaps its magic is so powerful it can be detected anywhere, or perhaps he doesn’t trust it …”

  “Trust it?”

  “I’ll not add that to your burden,” he said firmly. Then to me: “That’s right.”

  “So why do Klosterheim and von Minct want me? Oona doesn’t really know. Have you worked that out yet?”

  “I can’t be sure. I think they believe you to be some sort of key, perhaps to the Sword itself, possibly to the Grail, given your name and background. The best thing is not to get caught by them and never find out. The less you know about any of that, the better off you’ll be.”

  “Now you’ve made me even more curious,” I said.

  “Well, you’ll have to live with that for a while. We tell you what we think you
need to know in order to survive. These are secrets usually much better kept to a few of us.”

  “All right. Then what about my mum and dad?” I asked. “That’s mostly what’s on my mind. How are they mixed up in this? And Gertie and Alfy? And my grandma and grandpa?”

  “You know your grandmother is Oona, the Dream-thief’s daughter. She’s the only one actually mixed up in anything with us, and she’s trying to make sure all of us are kept safe. But since the enemy has focused on you, you are her chief concern. You should never have been involved, and honestly I have yet to work out why you are.”

  “Have they mistaken me for someone else?”

  “That’s my guess. Not, of course, that I’m in any position to tell them so or be believed by them. I don’t know how the misunderstanding began …”

  “You mean everything’s been an accident—wandering into the caves and everything?”

  “I don’t mean that. Not at all. There’s the boy, after all …” Again a sense of something shutting down.

  “So who are they really after? You sound like it’s someone in a witness protection program!”

  He laughed heartily at this. A moment later Ujamaka, who was driving the first carriage, lifted his lance and pointed with it. There in the distance, from the far shore of the glassy lake, a shape could be seen descending between twin peaks. A big ornithopter.

  My saddle became suddenly uncomfortable. The flying machines scared and fascinated me at the same time. I wanted to get down and walk but decided to ride back to Lord Renyard’s carriage and travel with him rather than go with a silent Oona. The Kakatanawa made room for me as we watched the big flying machine descend. I was terrified and hugely curious. All kinds of conflicting emotions roiled inside me. The thing was huge and very noisy!